Turning
by Manda0610
Summary: When all you have is each other, who else do you turn to for comfort? AU, written by request. FKA "Only the Beginning"
1. Doubts

_Author's Note: Greetings, Gentle Reader! Okay, I know this story's a bit off the beaten track. It was requested by dewey32, and her requirements were Abby and Sully together at the end, and Jimmy had to live. Say it with me: oi vey. I rewrote basically the last half of "Sigh", this chapter is mostly little tidbits and snippets to set things up. Enjoy!_

_-Manda._

Doubts

Sully watched as Shea and Madison floated off, without him. He waited almost ten minutes, until they were out of his line of sight, then sullenly made his way back to the boathouse to alert the Coast Guard of what he hoped wasn't a bad decision on his part.

He sighed, unsure of how much he liked this newfound selflessness.

--

Henry approached the boathouse, taking a deep breath before relaxing back into the role he'd played so well up until now. The payoff was just out of his grasp—he couldn't afford to lose sight of it now.

"Sully?" he called as he opened the door. There was no answer. He looked around. There were only so many places to look—the boathouse was only the one large room.

And that one room was empty. Henry stopped and took a deep breath, closing his eyes and remembering again not to panic, and opened them again. This was okay, or at least it would be. He just had to regroup with Dad, figure something else out. They'd done it plenty of times before when their plans were changed unexpectedly.

Just then, he noticed something. The room was...off somehow. _Wait a minute_, he thought as his eyes traveled upward.

Hadn't there been a boat hanging there this morning?

_Shit._

--

_Huh, that's funny. I don't remember leaving the door open when we left, _Sully thought as he walked into the boathouse. He shook his head and dismissed it; there was no time to worry about it now. He had to get in touch with the Coast Guard about Shea and Madison.

"This is Chris Sullivan on Harper's Island calling the Coast Guard, over."

"Captain Murdock here, go ahead Chris."

"Hey, yeah, there's a small boat with two passengers, Shea and Madison Allen, heading your way. They're uninjured, but could probably use some food and rest."

"Roger that, Chris, we'll keep an eye out for them. How's everything else on your end?"

"When the hell will you be here? He's still out there, as far as I know."

"We're looking to be there within the hour. Start heading to the marina if you can. Be careful."

"Roger that, over and out." Praying to run into his friends, alive, on the way there, Sully grabbed the shotgun and headed out.

--

Abby stopped short and looked around. Jimmy, she saw out of the corner of her eye, was doing the same thing.

"But...she was here, right here...," Abby whispered. Her eyes met Jimmy's and she saw a flash of suspicion there, suspicion she couldn't begin to understand. Before she had a chance to think about it, Henry spoke.

"Then she must still be alive...wounded somewhere. Trish!" he yelled, running through the woods again.

--

Henry slowed a bit just outside the church to be sure Abby and Jimmy were following him. Luckily, he had managed to catch up with Dad and they'd agreed to meet at the church, where Trish's body would be on the altar, an unwilling sacrifice for their cause.

_Where the hell are they?, _he thought anxiously—no, not anxiously, angrily. He didn't have time for this! Just then, they came around a tree.

Henry breathed a sigh of relief. Jimmy stopped and looked at Abby, whispering something he couldn't hear, before they started after him again.

Henry put it from his mind. Probably saying goodbye or something.

Just as well. If Henry had anything to say about it, Jimmy wouldn't have another chance.

--

"Kinda weird, don't you think?" Jimmy muttered to her, as Henry disappeared around a tree.

"What do you mean?" Abby whispered back. He stopped and took her arm, turning her around so he could look at her properly.

"I'd never leave you like that," he replied, his eyes meeting hers meaningfully. She could only blink in response. Jimmy didn't give her a chance to respond, just kept walking.

Henry was running into the church. _I wonder how he knew to come here,_ she thought fleetingly, then quickly wrote it off as...what? Instinct, knowing intuitively where his beloved was? Or was it something more sinister?

_No, of course not...this is Henry we're talking about!_, she thought next, dismissing the possibility of any other explanation immediately.

--

Trish was laying on the altar, dressed in the wedding dress she'd had custom made and flown in from New York specially. It would have been a beautiful sight, if not for the blood and dirt caked on the once-pure white dress.

Henry stood there, staring at her. Somehow, he hadn't wanted it to be this way. If only there'd been another way. He didn't dwell on it, though, because he felt Abby's hesitant hand lay on his shoulder and squeeze it softly.

"I'm so sorry, Henry," she whispered. Then she sniffed and let out a choked sob. He almost wished it hadn't been necessary, only because it was causing Abby pain to witness.

But it had to be done. It was part of the plan.

--

A sudden yell and crash behind her spun Abby around. Jimmy was struggling against Wakefield, before they both went flying into the pews. Henry turned as well and held the gun up, but not really at-the-ready. "Henry! Shoot!" she cried desperately.

She shook his arm and he looked down at her, then quickly pulled the gun to his shoulder. Then he hesitated, despite the fact that Wakefield's back was presented to him. Then the shot was gone as Jimmy was swung back around.

"Abby...run!" Jimmy yelled, flicking his eyes to her for a fraction of a second. That fraction cost him valuable time, and he was thrown to the ground. She stared for another second as Jimmy lit a flare and rammed it into his chest, then ran for her life. She didn't hear Wakefield's yell for Henry to follow her.

Footsteps and her name yelled behind her caused Abby to stop and turn. Henry ran up to her.

"Where—where's Jimmy?" she asked slowly, looking behind him for any trace. His eyes caught hers and he took a deep breath before shaking his head.

"Wakefield got him. I'm sorry," Henry whispered, coming toward her. Abby's heart stopped as Henry brought his hands to the front of him, revealing a pocket knife. Her eyes flew from it to his face as she backed away, shaking her head.

"Abby...stop. It'll be fine, I promise," he said gently, advancing on her again. She hesitated—something felt...off about this, and she suddenly wanted nothing more than to keep running. Her eyes flickered to either side, finding a cliff to her left and a steep incline to her right. Making a snap decision, she turned around to run and saw Wakefield standing behind her, a smug smirk on his face. She gasped and started backing away.

Before she could get very far, Henry was there, pushing her to the side to stab Wakefield in the chest with the knife. Just as relief flooded through her, Abby's blood ran cold. Wakefield was looking at Henry, his eyes full of shock and...betrayal?

"He-...Henry...," Wakefield gasped as he went to his knees, then fell back, dead before he hit the ground. Henry stared at the body for a few seconds, then looked at Abby.

"The way he looked at you...," she whispered, gesturing vaguely between Henry and Wakefield. Henry advanced again, his eyes pleading with her to understand. She backed away, shaking her head as her eyes widened. "How did you know to go to the church?" she asked.

"Abby...I did it all for you. Remember, when we were kids? You said you wanted it to be just the two of us..." he began. She shook her head again, more urgently this time.

"No...you—you killed them...your brother... and Trish..."

"I had to, Abbs, they were in the way. I love you, I couldn't let them stand in our way..."

Before Abby could respond, Henry went toppling off the cliff, a blur of blue going after him.


	2. Gone

Gone

Abby sat there on the beach, looking at the two still-as-death men laying on the beach. Jimmy was breathing, just slightly, but he wouldn't wake. Henry, on the other hand, was already gone. She took his hand, feeling vainly again for the pulse she knew wasn't there. He was already going cold.

Gone.

It wasn't until she thought the word that the tears started falling, nearly ten minutes after it had happened. She didn't even know who she was crying for more: Jimmy, her beautiful childhood sweetheart, the man who had tackled her best childhood friend off of a cliff in an attempt to save her, who had given up precious seconds of self-defense in the church to tell her to run. Who had almost been blown up on his boat, trying to get them all off the island. Jimmy, who had survived all of it, and yet now lay silently beside her, unmoving and unresponsive; or Henry, her best friend from childhood, who had comforted her when her mother was murdered and held her close when her father followed in the same manner, seven years later. Henry, who had killed everyone she had left in the world, all to fulfill a childhood wish. And Henry...who had told her he loved her with his last breath, despite the fact that the last thing he saw was Abby killing him.

Somewhere in the midst of everything, a more primal instinct kicked in: survival—Jimmy's survival. She needed to get to a radio. Looking around, she couldn't be sure, but she thought they might not be too far from the boathouse they'd found earlier that day. Hesitating slightly, she lay a hand against Jimmy's cheek and promised to come back soon. It was unheard, but it comforted her to imagine otherwise. With a deep breath, she headed back into the woods that held so many memories for her.

About what she imagined to be halfway to the boathouse, Abby heard leaves rustling, but there was no wind to speak of to cause it. Cursing herself for not thinking to grab a real weapon, she found the biggest stick she could and held it up like a club.

"Hello?" she called, willing her voice to sound more confident than she felt. More rustling was the response. She swallowed and moved toward the noise. "Who's there?"

"Abby?" she heard to her left. She swung that way, holding the branch in front of her. Suddenly, miraculously, she saw a familiar figure loping through the trees toward her. She almost let the branch drop, but remembered her recent ordeal and held it higher instead, narrowing her eyes.

"Sully?" she asked cautiously. He came out of the trees, a shotgun at his shoulder, but he lowered it and let out a sigh of relief as he came toward her, paying the branch no mind as he pulled her into a hug.

"Jesus, I thought you were dead!" he exclaimed. "Where's everyone else? Are they alive?"

"What are you doing here? Where were you? Where are Shea and Madison?" she asked, backing away inch by inch and ignoring his questions.

He blinked, obviously confused by her behavior. "We were at the boathouse...I managed to get them off in a boat that was there. The Coast Guard is on the way, I was hoping to find the rest of you guys to head to the marina to meet them. Abby, what's going on? What's with the branch?"

"You don't know?"

"Know what? Would you please tell me what the hell's going on?" The familiar arrogance creeping into his voice was strangely comforting to her.

Abby just stared at him for a full ten seconds, unsure of how exactly to say it. "I...it—it was Henry, Sully," she sighed, trying not to cry as she said the words aloud for the first time. Sully blinked and stared back.

"...what?"

"Henry."

"Why?" he asked. She paused; she certainly didn't have time to explain everything – Jimmy needed help _now_. In any case, she hadn't exactly gotten the whole story.

"Listen, I'll explain, I promise, but we have to get help," she answered finally. "Jimmy's on the beach, and he's breathing, but—" Sully put up a hand to stop her, closing his eyes, the opening them again.

"So...you're telling me that Henry—Henry Dunn, my best friend—is the one behind all this," he repeated skeptically. She bit her lip and nodded.

"No," he said flatly.

"I didn't want to believe it either, Sully...but it's true. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you."

"And where is he now?"

"On the beach...he—I..." She stopped to take a shaky breath, unable to continue. Luckily, she didn't need to—Sully seemed to understand perfectly.

His eyes glazed over as he absorbed this overwhelming new development, and the gun slipped from his hand as he swayed a bit on his feet. "Trish?" he asked, clearly not wanting to hear the answer. She nodded again. "Danny?" It came out a whisper, and he didn't have to look at her to get his answer.

"I'm so sorry, Sully," she murmured, her voice cracking as she took a step toward him. His eyes closed again, and she could see him swallow hard as he braced himself against a tree.

"The marina," he suddenly said, still not meeting her gaze. She wondered if he was thinking this was all her fault. Maybe it was.

"What?" she asked, confused. He finally turned to look at Abby; the calm sorrow in his eyes scared her.

"The Coast Guard will be here soon. We have to get to the marina."

Abby bit her lip again. "We'll never get Jimmy that far." _And freaking out won't help him_, she thought desperately, feeling on the verge of tears. She closed her eyes and took another deep breath, trying to collect herself. "When?"

"They said they'd be here within the hour."

Abby chewed on her lip, still fighting back the panic swelling within her. "There's a flare at the beach we can use to signal them. Come on." He nodded stoically and followed her to the beach.

Abby checked on Jimmy as soon as they got there, carefully avoiding looking at Henry. Jimmy was no different than when she left. She couldn't decide if this comforted her or not. Sully just stood staring at the lifeless body that had once been his best friend, turned into a monster he didn't recognize.

For the next twenty minutes, neither said a word. Sully had adopted Abby's practiced avoidance of looking at Henry and just sat on the beach, his elbows propped on his bent knees, staring at the water in silence. Abby sat beside Jimmy, stroking his hand and watching him intently for any sign of life. The only one she found was the shallow rise and fall of his chest.

Suddenly, a loud chopping noise came from overhead, pulling them both out of their thoughts. Abby grabbed the flare and set it off, running back and forth on the beach, waving it frantically over her head.

--

Three hours later, Sully and Abby sat side by side in the FBI office, having just finished explaining everything to the investigators. At least Abby had been explaining—Sully, having missed most of the action, didn't know very much, and so just sat and listened along with the agent, interjecting where he could.

"That's quite a story," said Agent Brown mildly as he shut off the voice recorder. He closed the notebook he was taking notes in and sat back in the cold metal chair.

"Yes, sir," she whispered back. She sniffled quietly and the agent's face softened. He passed a handkerchief across the table, which Abby accepted with a small sad smile of thanks.

"Would either of you like anything to eat or drink?" he asked, standing.

"I could go for a beer," Sully muttered. A corner of the agent's mouth twitched, and he turned to Abby. She looked up, her eyes pleading.

"I just want to see Jimmy," she replied softly. Brown sighed as he nodded, an understanding look crossing his face.

"I'll have an agent drive you to the hospital."

--

Abby gasped as they were led into Jimmy's room by the nurse, her hand flying to cover her mouth. There were several machines around his bed, all beeping softly, an IV dripping Lord-knows-what into him, and an oxygen tube in his nose. His face and arms were covered with bruises, cuts, and burns of varying shades of red and purple. Abby looked at Jimmy, horrified, as Sully lay a gentle hand on her shoulder, guiding her to the chair next to the bed. The nurse watched sympathetically.

Once the initial shock wore off, she leaned forward, taking Jimmy's hand in both of hers and tracing soft circles on his skin. The nurse looked at Sully and whispered, "The doctor will be in shortly to speak with you." Sully nodded and thanked her quietly.

"Hey, Jimmy," Abby whispered softly, stroking his hand gently. Sully shuffled from foot to foot nervously as she continued talking to him; he barely knew the guy, and their last words had been less-than-friendly. Finally, concluding she wouldn't notice or care, he opened the door and slipped into the hallway, quietly shutting the door behind him. With a tired sigh, he dropped into one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs in the hallway and let his head fall back against the wall, as he shut his eyes for what felt like the first time in days.

Probably because it was.


End file.
